Odd ravings, comments, and other wastes of time.
Some are in plain prose, yet others are in rhyme.

13 December 2007

selva oscura

what can be managed will take so much workthat we might find ourselves back in the darknot only worried about making markbut fearful of a hand holding a dirkour only purpose skulking in the murkis nothing that would seem evil or starkthe tree is told not only by its barkbut by the mosses and the birds that lurkfar from the safety of the sallow lightin places where the spiders seem to speakand all the creatures fear what they might saytheir shadows now are darker than the nighttheir distant odour makes us all feel weakand none expects again to see the day